


on the dangers of putting all your eggs in one basket

by alllyr



Category: Therapy with Dr. Albert Krueger (Video Game), 文森: G4人偶事件 | Vincent: Phantom of the G4 (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Not Canon Compliant, hence why the fic is tagged as gen, i still havent learnt how to tag fics properly, the relationships are all pretty minor except albert & taylor, the timeline makes zero sense whatsoever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27748273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alllyr/pseuds/alllyr
Summary: “I need you to go to G4 for me.”"...Why?""To investigate a situation.""...Why?"In which decisions are made, favours are given, and Taylor may or may not make it out of this alive.
Relationships: Albert Krueger & Taylor Lee, Vincent Edgeworth & Victor Blake, Vincent Edgeworth/Victor Blake
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate summary: Taylor Lee, broke college student, finds themselves in yet another Situation. It is nowhere as dangerous as the title, summary or tags make it out to be. 
> 
> The timeline makes zero sense, but I gave up on figuring out a coherent thread of events a while ago. This fic was actually based off a conversation I ended up cutting from one of my other fics, but... here it is anyway, I guess.

“Do you usually follow your employees around when they’re working?” 

“No,” the man said, smiling. “But they aren’t you, Taylor.” 

Taylor sighed, dropping the papers they had been holding into the proper filing cabinet. It was strange that a company as large as Krueger Corp would still use physical paper for a majority of their paperwork, but then again, this _was_ Albert. The same person who had wanted to exchange actual, physical letters in the year 207X. “Don’t you have work?” 

“You would be surprised at how quickly a person is capable of finishing their work given sufficient motivation. ” 

They blinked. “...It’s eight a.m.” 

Albert continued, nonplussed. “Yes, it is. Would you like me to detail my timetable to you, Taylor? I started off the morning with a board meeting, which I finished in record time, you may know— ”

“It’s eight a.m,” they repeated again, incredulous. How had he managed to finish all of his work in the hour since work had actually started?

“I had them wake up at four.” 

“What the fuck.” The other employees probably hated them at this point, if this was what Albert was subjecting them to because of Taylor. 

“Anything for you, dear Taylor.” 

“This is nepotism.” 

He clicked his tongue in response, wagging a finger condescendingly. “Ah, but you’re the one who accepted the job offer.” 

Taylor wasn’t sure how Albert thought they would ever have turned it down. They were a broke college student. His offer was the most lucrative one they could have ever hoped to obtain. 

“If you say so, _sir_.” 

“Sir? As your superior, I demand you call me Albert.” He dropped his smile and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I would not have offered you the job if I had known that you were going to use it as an excuse to avoid me, Taylor.” 

The other clerk in the room had stopped pretending to shuffle documents a while ago, and was now unabashedly eavesdropping on the conversation, which meant that this was going to be the topic of office gossip for months. If the pay wasn’t so good— 

Taylor flopped onto their chair and swivelled to shoot Albert a dead-eyed stare. “Okay then. What do you want, Albert?” 

“I have a favour to ask of you.” 

They continued staring. “You’re my boss. If you want me to do a piece of work, you can just tell me to do it.” 

Albert’s lips quirked into an almost apologetic smile. Which was kind of unbelievable considering that, again, this _was_ Albert Krueger. He was never apologetic about anything. “I think you’ll find that this favour is a little different.” 

“What is it?” 

“I need you to go to G4 for me.” 

Surely they had misheard. “...Why?” 

“To investigate a situation.” 

That was not the least bit helpful. “...Why?” 

“Because Vincent asked me to.” 

Ah. So it was a situation to do with his arch-nemesis. While that explained Albert’s insistence, it did not explain why _Taylor_ had to be the one to travel to G4. “And why aren’t you going?” 

“I have a company to run, Taylor.” 

They snorted. “It doesn’t look like it.” 

Albert continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, pointing a finger right between Taylor’s eyes. “So I want to send you in my stead.” 

“...”

“Please?”

“I have classes.”

“I’ll handle it.” 

“You’re paying for everything.” 

“Of course.” 

“Alright then. Give me the details.” 

* * *

They had moved to Albert’s office to discuss the actual details — not that it really helped at this point, since any gossip would have already taken root, and Taylor would be away for a while anyway. 

After Albert’s (incredibly shoddy) explanation, Taylor leaned back in their chair, arms crossed. “...So you’re saying that I might die.” 

“That is a possibility.” When Taylor didn’t look any less unimpressed, Albert shrugged. “You’ll have hazard pay.” 

“...”

“I’ll double it.” 

Taylor had gotten this far in life through a combination of incredibly bad decisions coupled with absurdly good luck. What was one more bad decision to that pile? “Deal.” 

* * *

The very next day, Taylor was being packed into a car filled with dozens of suitcases (all provided by Krueger Corp), a brand new credit card (also provided by Krueger Corp) in their wallet. “Your arch-nemesis asked you for help, and all you’re sending is a college student.” 

“I’m sending _you_ , Taylor. You’re more than capable of handling the situation.” Albert’s smile turned fond. “You survived me, after all.” 

“So you admit that you were trying to kill me,” Taylor said, frowning. “Either way, I don’t think this is a situation I can handle just by getting a few questions wrong, Albert.” 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’m sending you to assess the situation. If you cannot handle it, then I will send reinforcements.” 

“This is a lot of luggage for someone who will just be assessing a situation.” 

“I will spare no expense for your comfort, Taylor.” 

The words ‘ _in case you die_ ’ went unsaid.

“If I die, I’m going to come back as a ghost to haunt you, specifically.” 

Albert laughed, eyes gleaming. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” 

* * *

The ride to G4 passed without much fanfare. Neither Taylor nor the driver spoke — the former too occupied by thoughts of just what they would find in G4, while the latter had probably been told by Albert to keep silent. 

They finally pulled up outside a large mansion. Taylor should have been used to luxury by now, after spending so much time with Albert, but this? This was on another level entirely. (Granted, a majority of the time they spent in Albert’s company was in their dreams, so there really wasn’t too much room for material spending.) 

Taylor reached to open the car door, only for it to open before they could touch it. There was a man standing outside the car door, looking remarkably similar to the few drawings of his arch-nemesis Albert had shown them. Taylor wasn’t sure exactly when the man had gotten there, but they’d spent enough time with Albert to get used to things not quite making sense. 

“You must be the guest,” the man said, helping them out of the car. 

“Ah… yes. I’m Taylor Lee. It’s nice to meet you?” 

“I’m Mr. Edgeworth’s butler. You may call me Draco. It is nice to meet you too, Mx. Lee.” Draco offered them a small smile, before turning to pick up a few of the suitcases from the car. “I’ll escort you inside. Mr. Edgeworth is waiting for you.” 

“I can help carry the suitcases.” Taylor felt bad for the excessive amount of luggage Albert had packed them, now. They didn’t even know their contents — Albert had simply had them loaded into the car alongside Taylor’s own bag. 

“Nonsense,” Draco said, shaking his head. “You are a guest.” As if in spite, he picked up another suitcase, adding it to the growing pile in his arms. “Follow me.” 

* * *

The interior of the mansion was no less extravagant than its exterior. In the middle of the foyer stood two men — one Taylor immediately recognised as the Vincent from Albert’s drawings, who looked as if he hadn’t aged a day since, and one that wasn’t as familiar, holding an as of yet unlit pipe. 

“You must be Taylor Lee,” Vincent said, stepping forward. “I am Vincent Edgeworth, and this man here is Victor Blake. Did Albert coerce you into coming, or did you come of your own free will?” 

Taylor glanced back at Draco. The similarities between the two men were undeniable, and Draco _had_ neglected to tell them his surname, but— that was a mystery for another time. “A bit of both. He’s paying me for this.” 

“Still unable to do anything beyond tossing his influence around, I see.” 

“You’d be surprised at just how often his methods involve either murder or money.” 

The other man— Victor, who had been watching the exchange silently until now, let out a low whistle. “Albert’s got a type in friends, hasn’t he?” 

“We aren’t friends,” both of them said at once. 

“Of course you aren’t,” Victor said, grinning. He lit his pipe with a flick of his wrists. “And I’m the president of G4.” 

Vincent, looking unimpressed, turned back to Taylor. “Has Albert filled you in on the details?” 

“Some of them.” The more accurate answer was probably ‘not really’, but Taylor would give Albert’s explanations the benefit of the doubt, just this once. 

“You may want to sit down for the full story, then.” Vincent pursed his lips, before motioning them to follow him deeper into the mansion. “Victor, if you would?” 

“You agree that I am better at this than you are, then, my dear Vincent?” Victor threw an arm over Vincent’s shoulders, bringing their faces so close that Victor was almost nuzzling the other man’s cheek. Vincent batted him away, scowling, which left Taylor feeling a lot like a forgotten third wheel.

They looked around for Draco, hoping that they weren’t the only one feeling like an intruder in this moment, but the butler had conveniently disappeared a while ago, presumably to finish fetching their luggage. 

In front of them, Victor laughed, ducking out of the way of Vincent’s swipe, before turning to shoot Taylor a glance over his shoulder. “The story begins like this.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone’s goal seems to be ‘give Taylor the least amount of information humanly possible’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! Remember that time I said that 'on the dangers of putting all your eggs in one basket' wasn't going to be multi-chaptered? 
> 
> ...yeah. I do too. 
> 
> Please note that this was written before chapter 3.

“So what you’re saying,” Taylor said, head propped up on an elbow, “is that you’re looking for someone. And that someone has something to do with Myers Corp.  _ And  _ you can’t tell me her name.” 

Vincent grimaced, legs crossed on the seat in front of them. “Yes.” 

“You’re just as bad as Albert.” 

“Now that’s just rude,” Victor chimed from beside him. For whatever reason, Victor had decided to sit on the arm of Vincent’s chair, instead of the empty armchair beside it. Vincent seemed resigned to it, waving smoke out of his face every time Victor took a drag of his pipe. 

Taylor had thought that Vincent was the one that had a turbulent relationship with Albert, but apparently not. “Do you also have a problem with him?” 

“I might not have been his arch-nemesis”, Victor answered, shooting a grin at the unamused Vincent, “but I did share some classes with him at RMU. Asking him for help with work was a nightmare.” 

Vincent craned his neck to look up at Victor, face impassive. “You could have asked me instead.” 

Victor leaned over to pat Vincent’s head, earning him yet another swipe from Vincent. “Of course, dear.” 

...And they were the third wheel, yet again. 

“Well.” The sooner they got this over with, the sooner Taylor could retreat to their room and the two men could resume whatever date Taylor had clearly been interrupting. “I’ve learnt nothing new about this except some history. I need more information if you want my help investigating.” 

“I am afraid that we cannot provide you with any more information.” 

“Why?” And then, before either of them could continue, “if you say some bullshit about knowledge putting me in danger, I’m out. I could get eaten by killer cyborgs just by being in G4. Isn’t that dangerous enough already? What else is there to be scared of?” 

“Bold words,” said Victor.

Vincent’s response was more foreboding. “You would not want to find out.” 

Taylor snorted. Another benefit to having spent so much time around Albert was that ominous statements had lost their impact. 

“Try me.” 

They watched as the two men exchanged glances. Apparently having decided on something, they turned back to Taylor. 

“She’s the key to everything.” 

“That does not give me any useful information at all, but okay.” They were unlikely to get any more information out of the two of them, with how tight-lipped they seemed to be already. “What’s her name?” 

“Vanora.” 

* * *

This wasn’t a situation that Taylor liked being in — virtually helpless in a stranger’s domain — but it was one they found themselves in often enough anyway. 

Taylor flopped face-down onto the bed — so much more comfortable than any bed they had ever slept in before. The perks of money, they supposed. 

Vincent had escorted them to the guest room after their conversation with an emphatic warning not to leave the room until morning — something about his pets, which Taylor did not like the sound of at all. 

And then Draco had appeared with the last of their luggage, and offered Taylor nothing but a cryptic (and ominous, because it seemed that no one in this house could be  _ anything  _ other than ominous) statement about ‘knowledge as the ambrosial fruit hanging in the garden’ and how ‘reaching too far would have you suffocating with flooded lungs’. 

They didn’t really see the point of them coming here, if they weren’t going to be given enough information to work with. What did Vincent and Victor want with them? All Taylor seemed capable of offering with the puny amount of knowledge they  _ did  _ hold about the situation was a fresh set of eyes and a voice of reason (because  _ fuck  _ did they need one). 

Taylor wasn’t sure when, exactly, they had drifted off, but apparently they had, since they woke up sitting on their own bed with Albert seated cross-legged at their desk, eyeing them with an expectant smile. 

“Hello, Taylor. I trust that you had a safe trip?” 

They nodded slowly, still looking around what appeared to be their bedroom. This was new. “Hello. Oh… yes. The trip was fine.” More importantly— “Why are we in my room?” 

Albert cocked his head. “You don’t like it?” He waved an arm about their surroundings. The room wavered around them, giving way to the bright blue walls of Albert’s office. “I thought you might want a taste of home.” 

“No, that was actually… really nice of you.” At that, the room stopped wavering, solidifying back into the image of their room. “Thank you.” 

“Dear Taylor, why do you sound so surprised?” 

The fact that Albert had the capacity to be nice wasn’t something that  _ should  _ be surprising — he  _ was  _ nice (sometimes), just… a little annoying in how he carried it out. Maybe that was why Taylor had such a hard time registering it. 

There was still one problem with all of this, though. “...Albert, how do you know what my room looks like?” 

“I’ve been stalking you,” he answered, unperturbed. 

“....What?” 

“I was joking, Taylor. I simply plucked the image from your head,” he said, as if that was any  _ less  _ concerning. 

“No, what the fuck— have you been going through my head this whole time?” 

“Hmm…. no. I’ve only done it once, and for this.” 

Taylor narrowed their eyes. It was difficult to believe him — he was, after all, entirely capable of murder. But then again, he hadn’t lied to them yet. They’d give him the benefit of the doubt. “Why didn’t you tell me you could just look inside my head?” 

“You never asked. Besides, Taylor, I am a therapist. ‘Looking into people’s heads’, as you say it, is a part of my occupation.” 

...Not exactly. “Well, excuse me if I’m not used to how your magic powers work.” 

Albert’s smile became a little forced. “It isn’t magic, Taylor.” 

That was his response every time Taylor called his powers magic, but to be fair, it wasn’t as if they’d been given a better term for it. Even with all of Albert’s insistence that he would answer their questions, his explanations were confusing, at best. 

Taylor swung their feet up and fell back onto their bed. It felt like home, even if this was just the product of a dream. They weren’t homesick (yet, since they’d only just arrived in G4), but this was a nice gesture from Albert anyway, so they’d cut him some slack in this situation. (For now.) They’d read something about rewards and reinforcement, in one of the many books in Albert’s office. This act of kindness was a behaviour they wanted to encourage.

“Sure. Whatever you say.” Speaking of home— “If I wanted to go back to G2, would you let me?” 

“Do you want to leave?” There was an edge of something like concern — or maybe hope — in his voice. He must be feeling a little strange with Taylor away, considering how much time he spent with them, which then conflicted with his desire to help Vincent (by sending him Taylor, since Albert couldn’t go to G4 himself). There was a lot that could be unpacked. 

But then again, Taylor wasn’t the therapist here. 

“No. It’s just a hypothetical question.” 

“If you wanted to return to G2, I’d have someone go collect you immediately.” 

“Oh. Thanks. That’s nice to know.” They were never really sure what to say when Albert was nice. At least when he was being an ass, Taylor could just snark back at him. In an attempt to cover up their bewilderment, they blurted out the first thought that popped up in their mind. “Is this secure?” 

Vincent and Victor had seemed very concerned with keeping the amount of information Taylor knew to a minimum. Maybe there was more to this situation than anyone had been letting on. 

Albert almost looked offended at the question. “This dream? Of course,” he said, flipping through one of the notebooks on Taylor’s desk. “Though I had never taken you as one for paranoia, Taylor.” 

Taylor sat up and reached over to snatch it out of his hands. “No, it’s just something that Vincent and Victor said.” 

“I see that they are rubbing off on you already.” 

“Not really.” They snatched another one of their belongings out of his reach. “Albert, have you ever heard of someone named Vanora?” 

He hummed, leaning back in his chair. “I can’t say that I have. Why do you ask?” 

So Albert knew about as little as they did, then. “She’s important. For some reason or another.” 

“Is there any other information about her that you can provide me? A surname, perhaps?” 

“No. It was hard enough getting her first name out of them.” 

He clicked his tongue. “A first name alone isn’t much to work with, but I suppose it is uncommon enough. I will see what I can find.” 

“Are… should you be searching for her? Vincent and Victor implied that even just knowing about her was dangerous.” 

Though maybe he would be alright, since Albert was in another district entirely. 

His smile — which hadn’t left his face once since they’d arrived here — widened. “Are you concerned for me?” 

“...Not anymore.” 

Albert threw an arm over his head in mock distress. “You wound me, Taylor.” 

“Great. Maybe I’ll be lucky and it’ll be fatal.” 

“Alas, I am afraid that you won’t be free of my company any time soon.” Albert said, bringing up a hand to catch the book Taylor flung at his face. “Anyhow, rest assured, Taylor. I am more than capable of looking after myself.”

“Really, Albert.” Taylor raised an eyebrow. “Like that time you tripped—” 

“Ah— let’s not bring forth old mistakes, Taylor.” 

“Old? It happened—” 

“Oh, it appears that I have a matter to attend to.” Albert stood up abruptly. “I will see you again soon, Taylor. Take care.” 

And with that, Taylor woke up. 

They sat up, sighing. Dealing with Albert was the easy part. Figuring out where to go from here? Now that was difficult. 

This person — Vanora. Finding out all they could about her was the most obvious step to take, though Taylor wasn’t sure exactly how they would accomplish that, considering the fact that everything Vincent and Victor had said seemed to warn against asking around for her. Or, well, seeking out any information at all, really. Which was very counterintuitive — what was the point of them coming here, if not to help? 

Taylor stood up and drew the curtains on the window. It wasn’t morning yet. It made sense, considering that their conversation with Albert had been cut short by his embarrassment. It was, however, technically the next day. Maybe it was early enough to bypass Vincent’s warning about leaving their room at night. 

(All Taylor seemed to be getting in this household were warnings, now that they thought about it. Maybe that was just what the people from the G4 district were like — Taylor had heard about the disappearances. They’d been going on for long enough that it wouldn’t be unthinkable for paranoia to have been absorbed into the general culture of the district.) 

They made their way over to the door, stepping over suitcases all the while. (They’d best get onto unpacking at least some of it — they wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.) 

The door itself was locked, secured by a heavier bolt than was probably necessary for a bedroom door. Unlocking it, Taylor pushed it open and poked their head out. The corridor outside their room was almost pitch black, the only light coming from a window at the far end of the hall. Not  _ too  _ dark to navigate though. 

Before they managed to even set foot outside their room, they paused. There was a strange clunking sound coming from somewhere in the hall, followed by squelching and the unmistakable stench of something rotten. (A scent that Taylor was familiar with, again, because of Albert.) 

Taylor peered into the darkness, waiting for their eyes to adjust while the sounds steadily grew louder, keeping one hand firmly on the door in case they needed to slam it shut. 

And then the creature making the sounds stepped into the light, and Taylor could see it in all its heinousness, silhouetted by the meagre light from the window. 

As they locked eyes — because the creature’s eyes were unmistakably human (a fact Taylor could recognise because of Albert, again) — Taylor cursed, and immediately slammed their door shut, locking the bolt.

Well, fuck. If that was one of Vincent’s pets (and why the fuck did Vincent keep that as a pet? Taylor had thought that Albert was bad with his dream eaters, but it seemed the two of them weren’t so different after all), then Taylor understood Vincent’s warning. 

Behind them, the door thudded. Taylor moved the heaviest of their suitcases in front of the door, as the thudding outside turned into a more frantic scratching (which sounded so much worse than the thudding — at least that simply sounded like something pounding on wood, and not an unholy abomination clawing it to pieces). While the door seemed sturdy enough to withstand the creature’s attacks, Taylor wasn’t going to take any chances. 

They sat on the stack of suitcases with a sigh, leaning their head back against the door and then regretting it immediately. They were going to be stuck in their room until morning (whatever definition of morning this household had. Someone would probably come and get them once they could leave their room) — still hours away, judging by the darkness outside. 

Well, Taylor had nothing else to do. This was as good a time as any to set out a plan of action. (And finally take a look at what Albert had filled all of this luggage with. Who knew, perhaps he’d been practical for once and packed Taylor a weapon. If their time in G4 so far had been any indication, they’d certainly need one.) 


End file.
